


Burial Gown

by QueenOfPlotTwists



Series: Yu-Gi-Oh June 2020 Prompts [10]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Victorian, Funerals and Wakes, Hand-fastening, Illustrated, Implied Darkshipping, Ishizu is a badass witch, Kaiba is an asshole, Ressurrection, Romanian folklore inspiration, Ryou is not weak or helpless, Thief King Bakura | Yami Bakura Has His Own Body, Vampire folklore, Vampires and monsters are real, Vampires are sexy, Victorian Era-esque, Yami Yuugi | Atem Has His Own Body, Yu-Gioh June Prompts Challenge, Yugi is not weak or helpless, implied character death but not really, implied librashipping, kaiba can't take no for an answer, one-sided prideshipping, one-sided rivalshipping, slight angst with a happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:08:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24663610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfPlotTwists/pseuds/QueenOfPlotTwists
Summary: After his wake, Atem’s family heads to the graveyard to await his resurrection. Victorian-Era-esque. VampiresYu-Gi-Oh June Prompt ChallengeWeek Two: Water/ Day 11: Mourning
Series: Yu-Gi-Oh June 2020 Prompts [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1770298
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	Burial Gown

**Author's Note:**

> I really didn't wanna go literal or obvious with this one so I am very proud of the twist.
> 
> Yu-Gi-Oh June Prompts Challenge 2020
> 
> Week Two: Water/ Day 11: Mourning

Burial Gown

The body of Atem Mutou was laid out in his casket, stunning in the most beautiful black dress anyone had ever seen. A magnificent concoction of shiny onyx satin and midnight lace, the dress boasted a laced trimmed boat neckline exposing the pale white channels of his neck, collar and shoulders that spread like wings, long silky sleeves and a black brocades corset over a princess skirt of alternating layers of lace and silk and satin.

It was meant to be his wedding dress not his funeral shroud.

The color, symbolic of his feelings on the match clear in death what everyone had ignored in life.

Now the young man lied in a coffin as peacefully as if he were only asleep. His ruby eyes closed, never again to open; his long fingers folded together though they no longer held warmth, his youthful face and caramel skin now a frosty pallet betraying death: it was tragic that one had died so young.

The whole village had arrived for the wake, though it was not to grieve their lost neighbor nor to comfort the younger brother he’d left behind. The Mutous were well liked enough in the village: they ran the general store, were kind and generous to their neighbors and had lively personalities that attracted others to them. But even that was not enough to protect the elder boy from the roving eye of Seto Kaiba.

Seto Kaiba, whose family owned the fish factory and canary and a majority of the ships and ports in which most of the villagers and their families worked. Seto Kaiba who mercilessly retaliated against anyone he suspected of not showing the Kaiba Company its respect. Seto Kaiba, who all the village knew Atem Mutou would rather die than marry. And yet that had done nothing to stop the man from pursuing him, pursuing _both_ the Mutou brothers as if he had his choice of them and they should be grateful for his attention.

But while the younger Mutou boy, Yugi, was gentle and sweet, displaying a quiet strength and confidence that came from resilience and kindness, truly a perfect wife, it was Atem who stirred his lust. Atem, who was the opposite. Atem, who was bold and fierce and fiery and flirtatious and unabashedly, unashamedly himself and never apologized for it, least of all to the young man whom all their lives as children he’d had bested without even trying. For that reason Kaiba hated him. He envied him. He wanted him. And made it clear he could and would destroy everything Atem loved if he refused that want.

As the boy lied there, dead and unmoving, his younger brother’s hands cupped over his folded ones, his husband squeezing his other hand, tight in comfort, and the Undertaker standing quietly in the corner—an odd man with girlishly long white hair whose name he could not bother to remember—Kaiba wondered if it was Atem’s one last defiance against him.

It has been Atem’s fiancé who’d found him: sprawled on the floor in a room that smelled of blood and roses, a blade buried deep in his heart, his vacant eyes frozen open and his pale body drained to the last of its blood. It had spurred rumors of death and murder: a jealous suitor had sought to rid herself of competition, a lover’s spat gone wrong, a business rival seeking vengeance, even a terrible accident. Other stories offered a more supernatural explanation: ghost stories of demons and specters, and whispered words of _vampire_. Darker still was the talk of suicide, though never were such thoughts spoken aloud.

“It wasn’t an accident,” the younger Mutou uttered to himself though not low enough that Kaiba could not hear it. The tone so low and so derisive, “He always said he’d rather _die_.”

Kaiba grabbed his upper arm, squeezed it hard causing all the room to gasp. “If you knew he was going to kill himself why didn’t you stop him!?” He glared at Yugi with those cold blue eyes.

“Let go of him!” The Ishtar boy grabbed his arm, furious but Kaiba’s superior height shoved him away, narrowly missing his brother-in-laws’s casket. But when he glared at Yugi again he saw not the timid violet eyes he’d been expecting but hard, bright amethysts flaring with the same defiance Atem’s garnet gems had, that fierce resilience Yugi was known for.

Yugi hissed “You know why.”

And they both did. As Yugi glared up at Kaiba, his eyes burning with hatred, he knew it was because unlike Kaiba, Atem had loved him. Kaiba he’d hated. It was Yugi who saw his smiles and his laughter. Kaiba only got hisses and scowls. Yugi who saw the brightness in his eyes and sampled the fieriness of his spirit. Kaiba saw his fire too, but in the form of his temper and his bold defiance, a ferocious conflagration that refused to be quenched and would flare up again no matter what he’d done in an attempt to smother it. Yugi, who Atem would sacrifice all the world for, and had, and who he always loved more than he could ever love Kaiba. The only reason Yugi had escaped retribution was because he married the Ishtar’s heir.

“You both should’ve been grateful I even agreed to this union,” he hissed in Yugi’s ear to the boy’s disgust as though he had done them a favor and was not the one who forced them into poverty in the first place. “Or you’d both have been out on the streets within a year.”

Before Yugi could protest or Marik, his husband, could strike back, a curtain of darkness not unlike the wings of a raven swooped forward and struck Kaiba hard across his smug, self-assured face. Then pulled Yugi and Marik both to her when Kaiba released his hold. Kaiba whirled back to denounce his assailant, but instead the Wise Lady Ishizu stated down the hulking patriarch of the Kaiba Family in his pale, mean eyes and hissed “Shame on you, boy!” The purposeful misuse of his name was not lost on the crowd or himself, for never did she called him Kaiba or Lord, or even Seto but boy, as though his name, title and very existence were not important enough for her to remember. “This boy’s lost a brother and we, a beloved family member, and you have the audacity to make such threats when he’s not yet beneath the ground!” She scolded, the denouncement harsh in her voice. “You would do well to control such tempers. The spirits of the dead hear all. They remember such slander. They are less forgiving than the living.”

A chill swept through the air at her words. The long dark curtain of her hair, black as midnight swayed in its own ethereal breeze adding a layer of mysticism about her that her sparkling dark eyes only enhanced.

Kaiba growled, pressed his lips together so tight they turned white, but otherwise did not speak—for like her mother before her, the Ishtar’s elder daughter was Fae-Blessed. Kaiba believed such things even less than he believed the existence of vampires or demons in the night. Saw them as nothing more than ghost tales and fables restricted to the nursery. But the woman was well-loved by the people and well known for the accuracy of her rune readings, the effectiveness of her healing herbs, the power of her blessing spells. Kaiba has no doubt she was well-versed in other, darker magics as well.

And with the joining of their two families, she considered Atem and Yugi both her own.

The whole thing was halted when the church doors swung open and a lone figure entered the church, his entire being shrouded completely in a dark burgundy cloak. Once out of the sunshine, he pulled down the hood and a spiked cloud of long pale hair spilled out. White and wild as a winter storm, it made the frostiness of his skin look even paler but constrained stunningly with the sharp angles of his face and the dark russet shade of his eyes. Beneath the cloak he wore a long-tailed waistcoat, black as midnight, a white collared shirt beneath a brocaded burgundy vest tied with gold chains, sleek black leather pants, boots and gloves that covered all skin but the pallor of his face. The colors and fabrics alone probably coast even more than Kaiba’s entire wardrobe. For this was not one of the New Rich, but someone from a true noble family: one older, stronger with power in its blood, and he commanded it as confidently and assuredly as Kaiba has but with far greater maturity.

Kaiba hated him on principle.

The room parted as the stranger walked towards the dais where the coffin lay. His gaze lingered on Kaiba’s as he past him, scrutinizing him up and down—and was unimpressed. Then he turned to the corpse sleeping soundly, placed a single red rose upon his hands and pressed a kiss to his forehead. 

“Who are you?” Kaiba demanded, deciding then he’d had enough.

The man did not even humor him with a look “No one,” the stranger side, his voice rough and strained. “Just an old friend.”

“I’m glad you made it,” Yugi told him and chose that moment to close the casket and have the coffin brought to the cemetery atop the hill for burial. When Kaiba moved to protest that he gave so much order, it was Marik who reminded him that it was never his order to give, and it was true: _they_ were Atem’s family, _he_ was nothing more than the fiance he did not want. His commands and property rights slipped away with the ring from Atem’s finger.

As friends and in-laws alike gathered around the carry the body, Kaiba, deciding he’d seen enough, stalked home, his mind twisting with all the ways he would have his vengeance against the Ishtar’s whom Yugi was now one of.

He did not see the stranger watching him or the two white fangs protruding over his smile.

X X X

The Ishtars and Undertaker remained at the grave site long after the casket had been buried and the rest of the procession had left.

Yugi sat closest to the grave, his coat pulled tight against the cold, Marik’s warm hand squeezing his. Ryou sat in his other side, the young Undertaker blowing warm breathe into his gloved hands.

“How long is this supposed to take?” he asked, a combination of curiosity and annoyance.

“However long, it takes,” Ishizu answered sitting with her knees folded beneath her mass of skirts. “If we followed his instructions correctly, I imagine it won’t be much longer.”

“We did,” Yugi snapped assuredly, though there was a flicker of uncertainty, borderline fear in his young voice. His eyes closed, a wash of terror coursing through his blood at the thought...at the possibility of them having done something wrong...of Atem possibly...

A strong warmth squeezed his hand again. His eyes popped open and he whirled. Marik’s eyes were a stern but reassuringly smile. Yugi learned against his shoulder grateful for the comfort, however small.

“Let’s hope so,” Ryou complained, with a shivering whine. “I’m freezing!”

Marik snorted “I thought your kind were supposed to be immune to the elements?”

It was Ryou’s turn to snort. “Just like we can’t enter churches, shriek when we see crosses and are burned by holy water?” Sarcasm dropped his words. “I’ll have you know I enjoy my warm, cozy comforts just as much as the next person, undead or otherwise.” He ended that declaration on one last ‘harump’ to save his pride.

Yugi giggled enjoying the banter and feeling lighter somehow.

“You are such a twit, little Rabbit.” They whirled around and watched Bakura step around the tombstones. The heavy cloak he wore earlier, discarded having served its purpose and he shook out his long white hair so that the bangs spiked like bat wings and the rest of the rigged locks fell loose and wild down his back.

Ryou growled at the nickname and threw the man a glare. “How many times have I asked you, pleaded with you, just short of begged you, Bakura, never to call me that in public!”

“Does it vex you?” Bakura smirked a wide, curled smile that showed fangs as he stripped the leather gloves off revealing long fingers tipped with black claws.

Ryou glared at him in frosty silence, his own cloud of long white hair frizzing like the hairs of s territorial cat. Then he hissed “You know that it does.”

“Then I simply must do it.” He knelt down and gently twisted a pinky finger into Ryou’s cheek, playfully. The boy continued to glare, refusing him the satisfaction of swatting his hand away.

Bakura took pity on his former fledging and spun to the witch. “Have I missed it?”

“See for yourself.” She pointed an elegant hand towards the undisturbed grave where hours earlier Atem has been buried. “We made sure to put soil in the coffin after the wake. “I hope it was enough.”

“Have more faith in your skills, you lot,” the newcomer teased then puffed his chest out proudly. “Or at the very least have more faith in _me_? You all know I would never risk this going wrong. Not with Atem.”

The dirt atop the mortuary mound suddenly shifted, just a few rolling clumps, as if disturbed by the wind. Tumbles of dirt gave way to shallow rumbling. Then a pulse, movement under the ground, something beginning to emerge from underneath.

A hand suddenly reached up through the ground, taking them by surprise and sending Yugi, Ryou and Marik reeling back though they’d been expecting it. Long fingers clutched at the wet earth, a long slender arm followed, then another. The pair of them pushed against the ground and, with a loud, shrieking gasp the man exploded out of the earth: shoulders, torso, hips—and flopped foreword with a pained groan. “Hell and damnation!”

“Atem!” Yugi shrieked with delight.

“Yugi...help!” Atem moaned. “This ridiculous dress in a _beast_.”

Yugi caught Atem in arms, Marik and Ryou took his arms and even Ishizu helped drag him and the mountain of skirts he still wore out of ground until he was able to rest in her knees, heaving. Yugi ran into his arms and hugged him tight. Atem returned the gesture and squeezed him.

“I was so worried it wouldn’t work.”

“Told you to have a little more faith,” Bakura teased smilingly down at the newly risen boy. “How do you feel?”

Atem rose slowly, stretched his back until there was a crack. “Like I slept in a box for two days!” He shook the dirt from his hair and brushed away the mud caking the dress. “I’m glad this is a single event because that was _terrible_! I’ll try anything once but being dead...what the bloody bells took so long?”

Ryou shrugged. “What? We had to convince them you were truly dead. Do you have any idea how long it takes to properly embalm a body?” There was a sort of mad glee that made everyone wonder whether he meant the question as rhetorical or not. Bakura only beamed first at his fledging then at his lover. With a long courtly bow and a smile that showed his fangs he held out a hand to the dirt-stained vampire and grinned. “Shall we finish the ceremony thenn, love?”

Atem grinned, his own fangs protruding from his mouth, sharp and white as bone and accepted the hand.

Caught off guard by the sudden jerk on it he was pulled into Bakura’s waiting arms and warm, red lips pressed against his in a hungry, demanding kiss. “You have no idea how hard you were to resist, before. Lying in that coffin with my mark on your neck, looking all enchanting and eatable in your wedding gown. I almost couldn’t resist.”

Atem’s smiled curled with pride, knowing only _he_ could stir such a reaction from this undead royal.

“If you are ready gentlemen, it’s late,” Ishizu chimed in, grinning while Ryou groaned, Yugi giggled and her brother tried not to blush. “There is still one final thing that must be done for the ritual to be complete.”

They nodded and Atem offered Bakura his wrist, his nails already growing black claws. Bakura cut the fabric of his dress away and sank his teeth into the soft flesh there but only took a single swallow. Atem’s blood still glistening on his lips and his russet eyes fiery and bright.

Atem did the same to Bakura and licked a stray drop, his eyes just as brilliant and enthralled, sparkling like sun-kissed rubies. Then they pressed their lips together in a bloody kiss tasting the other’s blood mingled with their own while the witch tied their bleeding wrists together with a white ribbon, completing the vampiric hand-fastening.

When they pulled away, their eyes were glittering with lust and love: Bakura for his mate’s beautiful body and more beautiful soul, Atem for blood and the mating that would follow their first kill.

“The Hand-fastening is complete,” Ishizu declared and the three witnesses cheered. Yugi offering his brother one final hug before Bakura wrapped his arms around him, ready to fly off into the night.

“Are you hungry my sweet bride?” The Dracula asked, bidding their entourage one last goodbye.

“Famished,” Atem breathed against his neck. He looked into Bakura’s eyes, a dangerous smile curling at the corners of his face. “Let’s go eat my ex-fiancé!”

Bakura couldn’t agree more.

**Author's Note:**

> That was fun! This is actually my first vampire themed story and I love how it turned out! So I based this on the old folktale that when someone was "turned" by a vampire, they had to first be drained of blood or die a human death, feed on another vampire's blood to replace the lost blood and then be buried in native soil in order to be properly resurrected.
> 
> And i will not lie I've wanted to use the image of Yami in that black gothic dress for SO long I was ecstatic to finally have an excuse--yeah i pretty much looked for any esxcue to put vampire pics of these two in here. LOL I regret nothing!
> 
> Hand-fastening is an old marriage ceremonial custom in which the two parties cut their hands and shared blood while the priest wraps a white ribbon around their wrists thus symbolically and physically showing they have become one. I thought it fit for vampires very well :)
> 
> And Poor (not) Kaiba...he should've listened to Ishizu ;)


End file.
